


Friends Like These

by Firekitten



Category: RWBY
Genre: But you can see the Fair Game if you squint, Fix-It, Gen, Rewriting V7C12 yet again, This time with a more friendship-oriented flavor, Tyrian's here too but he's not treated too nicely
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-03
Updated: 2020-02-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:54:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22536589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Firekitten/pseuds/Firekitten
Summary: The crash is imminent and the airship's broken control leaves no hope in stopping it. As they plummet through the sky, Qrow, Robyn and Clover put their fight on hold so they can make it out of this alive. Unfortunately, they have to bring Tyrian too.
Comments: 10
Kudos: 63
Collections: rubess





	Friends Like These

**Author's Note:**

> I've been spending days with friends in our Qrow Zine discord just ripping C12 apart, and this story was the result. 
> 
> This is what happens when you pick at every inch of am episode's bad writing - you see every possible way it could have gone instead.

Immediate regret was the first thing Qrow felt sit on his shoulders as he swung Harbinger down on Clover. He happened to have a lot of experience grappling with that particular feeling though, so it was as easy to shove down in the same manner he used to shove down a shot of whiskey at the bar.

“I wish it hadn’t come to this.” Clover grit out, looking up at him between the crossing of their weapons.

“It doesn’t have to.” Qrow urged.

He didn’t get a chance to respond, as Robyn leapt up with a cry, swinging her weapon down and forcing the two of them apart. She got between them, pointing her crossbow back at the operative. “You can hug it out once we’ve taken him down!”

Qrow didn’t know if there’d be any of that, but they’d made their choices.

Kingfisher’s hook came flying, but Robyn deflected it this time. It flew off somewhere to the side, clanging with metal, but Qrow didn’t let it distract him. He ducked around Robyn so he could strike at the man from the other side. Clover blocked strike after strike as they bared down on him and pinched him towards the door, the versatility of his weapon limited to the small space and their close-quarters attack.

The best-case scenario would be for the two of them to overwhelm him enough that he just jumped out.

But just as Qrow moved in for another attack, the ground underneath him upheaved, sending him tumbling. He felt his grip on his weapon come loose, Harbinger skittering under the bench.

Before he could think to retrieve it, maniacal laughter drew his attention towards the front of the plane. Tyrian was perched on the console, a pilot’s hat on his head. The pilots were slumped in their chairs, necks bent at unnatural angles.

Qrow’s blood _boiled_. “What are you doing?!” He roared as he shot to his feet, grabbing hold of the other.

“The WILL of-”

He didn’t wait to hear the rest, grabbing onto the leather belts that hooked around his jacket and with a twist of his body, managed to toss the murderer clear over his head. There was pained yelp as Tyrian hit the ground, and with a growl he tried to get to his feet – only for a fishing line to rope him down next.

“The controls?” Clover called, keeping Tyrian pinned with a boot on his back.

Qrow turned to them, but knew it was futile instantly. The cyclic had been kicked out. “They’re busted!”

“We’re going down, fast!” Robyn updated from her spot by the back window. The nose of the plane was pointing down, surrounding them in clouds.

With the same air he commanded his team with, Clover yanked Tyrian up by his bonds and ordered, “Alright, let’s move out!”

There was no arguing it. With the speed they were gaining, they’d hit the ground at a few machs. Still, Qrow took a second to check the pulse beats of both the pilot and co-pilot, pushing down the sick in his stomach when he unquestionably concluded that there was nothing there.

Another two seconds were spent fetching Harbinger, before he joined the others at the hatch, door already open. The chilly wind whipped his hair around, ice crystals sticking onto it. “Hope you got a plan, boy scout!”

Clover smirked, flicking his pin. “Just keep hold of me, both of you.”

Tyrian, who was firmly planted in front of them, gave a high-pitched giggle. “Oooh this looks dangerous.”

“Regrettably, you’ll be fine. But, you are going first.” Was the reply, before he delivered a swift kick to his ass.

Qrow snorted, even as he wound his arm around Clover’s. Maybe he was teaching him how to be vindictive after all.

“Jump!”

On the order, they did, Robyn on one side, Qrow on the other. Kingfisher’s line ran to the end, Tyrian scream-laughing all the while as they plummeted through the sky. They passed through the barrier of clouds, finding the ground a concerningly close distance away.

Landing strategies in the Atlas tundra were limited by whatever weapons and semblances were at one’s disposal as the ground was nothing but a harsh icy sheet. With nothing to latch onto to control or alter one’s momentum, in most cases, it was just a straight fall down.

Qrow knew he could just morph and be fine, but Clover and Robyn had nothing in circumstances like these. So, whatever the former had planned, he trusted it to be something that would save all of them.

And that trust paid off. “Robyn, burn the ground! Qrow, slow us down!”

Neither of them hesitated. With an impressive swiftness and accuracy, Robyn had her crossbow pointed at the ground and multiple shots fired, the fire dust shattering the ice and melting it. Qrow likewise aimed his own weapon down, firing off a barrage of shots that created a ricochet that tempered their speed. As they hit the water, the good luck on their side seemed to be the only thing left that kept them from hitting the bottom of their manmade pond and their auras intact as the immediate drop in temperature attacked them viciously.

Qrow detangled himself, swimming for the surface and taking a deep breath of air, before scrambling onto the bank. He heard the others following suit with Clover yanking Tyrian up and tossing him unceremoniously into the snow.

“Well now wasn’t that exciting!” The psychopath hollered, wiggling about in the fishing line still snarled around him.

Ignoring him, the Aceop asked, “Is everyone alright?”

“Oh, so now you care?” Robyn snarked as she wrung out her scarf. She looked like a drowned cat, her hair having fallen out of its ponytail and now covering most of her face.

He sighed. “Robyn, now is not the time-”

“Then what, pray tell, is oh mighty soldier?” She had the same tone Qrow recognized Raven would get whenever she was trying to get under someone’s skin.

And after such a long, hectic, exhaustive night coupled with the stress of the past ten minutes, it worked. “Not 30,000 feet up in the air! Those pilots’ lives are on _your_ hands.”

“How DARE-”

“Hey!” Qrow snapped as he got to his feet. He tried to sound firm, but his chattering teeth ruined the effect. Each bite of the wind along his wet clothes and skin felt like an attack on his nerves, chipping slowly away at his aura. If they didn’t get out of the cold soon, he was going to be in danger. “That’s enough. We need to get moving and call for help. And-” He kicked Tyrian in the shoulder, the little worm trying to appear gleefully innocent when he had a mouthful of fishing line he’d been trying to unknot. “Keep an eye on him, will ya?”

Clover had the modesty to look guilty at least. “Right.” He reached down to re-secure the line, winding it through the cuffs so it wouldn’t be so easy to undo. With their criminal more under control, he tested his communicator next, only to wince and pull it out of his ear.

A quick check to their scrolls revealed they were just the same. Well, except one.

“Well, ain’t that unfortunate.” Qrow waved his scroll at them, the red icon signifying it was still locked from use seeming to mock them over this sheer, ironic miracle.

Clover sighed, sparing the miles of distance between themselves and Mantle a despising look. “Guess we better get walking. Robyn, will you watch our six?”

The huntress seemed to bristle at being ordered around, but as the soldier turned his body, hiding a hand gesture, her gaze flickered to Qrow before relaxing. “Fine.”

He narrowed his eyes at the two of them suspiciously. He knew Atlas-trained huntsmen and huntresses all learned a specific set of silent hand gestures during their school years. So, what had that been about?

“As for you,” Clover looked down at Tyrian, who was still sitting cross-legged, looking like he had no intention of getting up anytime soon. “You can either walk or I can drag you.”

The Faunus tilted his head to one side. “Oh my, is the Atlas military always so rough with their prisoners?”

“Right. Dragging it is.” He turned to him next. “Qrow, take lead.”

“Hope you won’t arrest me while my back is turned.” He scathed even as he started forward.

After a moment, footfalls followed him. “What would you rather I’d have done?”

“Oh, I don’t know, _not_ blindly follow James’ every order?”

“Oh, far be it for me, the top specialist of the military to _not_ follow orders!” It was, weird, in a way to hear Clover so angry. He’d always seen him as such a – _heh_ – happy-go-lucky type. “I trust James with my life, Qrow. If he says you need to be detained, I have to believe that’s for a very good reason!”

“But you couldn't trust me? The guy whose had your back these past three months?!”

“Oh, you want to talk about trusting you? How about the fact that you – both of you – attacked me first?”

“What other option did you give us?” Robyn called from the back.

“Not a violent one! You two chose to escalate.” He could feel Clover’s stare burning into his back. “Doesn’t exactly fill me with confidence that we’re on the same side.”

“Then maybe we’re not.” Qrow spat out as he whirled around, walking backwards. Clover’s face morphed from upset to outright betrayed. It was hard to look at, so he averted his gaze to over his shoulder.

That’s when it hit him like a punch to the gut, what their positions in this line up truly meant. He wasn’t in lead because he had the best eyesight (a side effect of his bird powers and his many years as a marksman). He was in lead because his aura was the lowest. As he met Tyrian’s eager violet eyes, he knew the psychopath was just waiting for his aura to snap. So, Clover had guaranteed Robyn had her weapon on him… and had made himself a human shield.

Even after that fight, he’d chosen to protect him.

Qrow swallowed that truth hard. He’d been so positive that Clover had become just like everyone else in his life, had allowed his _own_ insecurities to rule his feelings, that he didn’t even try to read more into his actions.

He met his gaze again, guilt as familiar a friend as regret plopping onto his shoulders. They never felt so heavy. “What were you going to do, if I had allowed you to handcuff me?”

Some of the hurt faded, but not enough to know he was completely forgiven. “Back in Mantle, when our mission directive changed, I was informed of something else I chose not to disclose to you. Did you know what secrets Oscar told the general when we left this evening? The ones your team failed to mention months ago?”

His throat closed up. They had told James? _Now_ of all times?

“I don’t understand why you made the choices you did, but it shook his faith in your team.” Clover sighed. “So tell me, for a man who just had to face nine people deceiving him… how do you think he would have reacted, had I, one of his most righthand soldiers, not brought you to him in chains? He would never of heard my reasoning why, much less listen to anything you had to say.”

Qrow wanted to ask why none of this had come out before – but it sounded petulant, even in his head. They needed to work together so Tyrian’s capture could go without a hitch, something they couldn’t have done if Clover was instead grilling him on his dishonesty. And, any time after, they had never given him a chance.

“I’m sorry.” The words burst out violently, even though he only said them in a whisper.

“So am I.”

That made him look up in surprise. Why was he-?

Manic laughter drew his thoughts to a halt, and his glare fell on Tyrian instantly. “Oh, what a beautiful tragedy you two are going to be. Making up like a couple of lovebirds… only to get torn apart once my goddess gets here. Oh!” He licked his lips. “I can’t wait to see it.”

With a snap of his arm, the huntsman yanked Kingfisher forward, sending Tyrian careening into the snow face-first.

It dragged an amused snort out of Qrow.

Clover smirked, though only briefly. “Look, whatever we wanted to do, whatever stance we wanted to take, doesn’t matter anymore. It’ll take at least an hour to get to Mantle. By then, who knows what will have changed. The three of us are on our own.” He looked between him and Robyn. “So right now, we’re just huntsmen.”

“Calling for a truce?” Robyn asked with a quirk of a brow.

“More than that. I’m asking for us to be a team.”

“Hmph.” She pointed her weapon down at their prisoner, notching an arrow. “Then maybe we should lose the dead weight.”

Qrow let his gaze roll down to the man they were dragging around like an untrained dog and scoffed. “As much as I’d like to agree with that, if James does raise Atlas and Salem really is coming, then this bastard’s the only bargaining chip we’ve got.”

Tyrian looked up, grinning despite the blood flowing from his nose. “As if my dear goddess would ever be fooled by a bribe from some lowly insects.”

“You know we really should gag him.” Clover mumbled, before adding more firmly, “So we’re agreed? We’re in this together?”

Robyn gave a thoughtful hum as she walked forward, never letting her crossbow lose its target. “If we’re going to make this official…” She held out her hand, “Why don’t we shake on it?”

Clover took her hand, before glancing at him. “Qrow?”

He looked back at Atlas for one, mournful second. He could still fly off, find his nieces and the rest of the kids that he maybe, possibly, had started to look at like his own extended family. But even if he did leave now, he had no guarantee of finding them. He knew them well enough to know they’d fight tooth and nail out of the arrest warrant, so they may even be escaping to Mantle right now. He couldn’t possibly search two huge cities and just hope he’d luck into finding them before danger came – especially considering _his_ track record.

He just had to believe they were smart and were keeping each other safe.

He in turn had to do the same.

Qrow took a few steps forward, placing his hand atop Robyn and Clover’s. “Alright, I’m in.”

Their clashing aura colors – red, turquoise and purple – wafted off their hands. “Say it again: From here until we’re safe, you swear to be loyal teammates?”

“I swear.” Qrow said the same moment Clover did.

A flash and then their auras combined into a bright green. There was a comfort in its’ warmth; in its’ promise of trust.

“Alright,” Clover said as they pulled away. “Let’s move.”

Qrow took lead again, feeling more confidant then before. He didn’t know what terrible things were coming on the horizon, but there was hope of making it out alive now that he had friends like these.


End file.
